The Finding of Lost Things

Clouds? White and billowing – no, linen; Snape was in a familiar bed, under the sheets, and as naked as the day he was born. The fabric felt soft and warm against his skin, the mattress deep, and it was bright: a gentle sunlight shone everywhere.

"Severus?"

She was there, in the bed and under the sheets with him: he saw her lying on her stomach, utterly nude and smiling at him, a broad, brazen grin. She brushed some hair away from her face then tucked her forearms beneath her, resting her head on her pillow to gaze at him.

"Charity… Are we in Dumbledore's cottage?" He knew they were.

"Can't you tell?"

He shook his head a fraction, mesmerised by her. She was stunning; a vision. "I don't want to look. I don't care."

"Are you happy?'

He nodded and reached out to touch her. She closed her eyes as he ran his hand along the smooth length of her back, across all her curves. "You feel divine," he murmured. "I could touch you all day."

"If you want," she said audaciously, and rolled over, one arm outstretched. "Come here."

It seemed as if no obstacles existed, not even physics or gravity were a complication. He was suddenly in her arms, kissing her sweet, soft lips, her hands in his hair and across his shoulders, and his whole being felt light and delirious with desire. "I missed you, I missed you so much," he whispered, and kissed the corner of her mouth where it curved upwards. "I love you. Merlin, I love you more than words..."

"I love you more," she murmured in return, and ran her fingers along the scar on his neck. "Every bit of you. With all my heart."

"No, my heart isn't big enough. Nothing is big enough." He kissed her completely, from head to toe, and willingly succumbed to the sweetness of skin against skin. At last he eased inside her with a low groan and they moved together in rolling bliss but he was afraid to close his eyes and so he watched her face, her pleasure, the colour mounting in her cheeks, her eyelashes, her reddening lips. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. A part of him didn't know how to handle it, as though such feelings were unsophisticated in him, unfledged, they seemed to simply dilate and try to engulf the moment – his entire world, everything that ever was or had been, was lost to it.

Time was uncertain, all he was aware of was of fixated pleasure and ultimately release that seemed to him as much emotional as physical, the unutterable relief of having found her. She took his face in her hands and kissed him again, and then they curled up together - he with the intention of repeating the exercise at the earliest possible opportunity - she nestled in the crook of his arm so that he could press his lips against her crown repeatedly, and she idly ran her fingers across his chest, the way she'd used to.

["Save him! He's there, I know it!"]

"Did you find your way?" Snape asked her, breathing in her scent and running one finger to and fro along her arm. "Are you happy?"

"This is yours, Severus, not mine. Do you want me to be happy?"

He was confused but dismissed it. "Of course, my love. I can't rest unless you are. Nothing means anything otherwise. If here is where we are together, then here we shall stay. You're all I need."

["Stand clear, this will send a strong stimulus to his heart, hold that to the wound -,"]

"This is eternity."

"Yes. I understand. Forever."

He felt drowsy, heavy, as if he could drop into an everlasting cradle of sleep.

["Intravenous is ready -,"]

"They're trying to save you," she said, shifting slightly to sit level with him. She gazed into his eyes, then kissed them, his jaw, his neck, his lips. "They need you. They need you my darling."

"I don't care. Here is where I want to be."

["Dad!"]

["I have a heartbeat…I have a heartbeat: pressure is low…Check his pupils -"]

There was a window in Dumbledore's bedroom and outside Snape could see a glorious day, deep blue skies, a warm sun. There was a butterfly. He felt no pain at all and settled deeper into the bed, drawing Charity hard up against him. Outside, a fat snowflake drifted past the window, then another and another until the snow fell gently, and it was shining. Impossible, and yet perfectly right.

"My love, I don't want to be there anymore. All I do is regret. Here…it's a beautiful day. I don't think I've ever noticed a beautiful day before."

"Don't cry my darling."

He closed his eyes. It was so peaceful. "I can't stay can I?"

["Vulnera…Sanentur…Vulnera…Sanentur…pulse weakening…"]

["Severus, for the love of Merlin…we have too much to live for -,"]

"Aurora," said Charity, quirking a brow and smiling. "She loved you long before I. She needs you."

"Are you going to break my heart forever?" he asked, eyes roaming every inch of her face, and he couldn't help but smile sadly even though the tears spilled down his cheeks. She kissed them away.

"Our boy," she whispered, her lips lingering on his. "Our gorgeous boy. He needs you more than ever, he thinks the world of you, he really does. Finish what you need to do. Help me to rest."

"I don't want to go," he said.

"I know."

"I love you," his voice wavered, his heart pounded. "I love you. I miss you."

["Dad! Please!"]

"I love you more. I'll see you my darling, I'm with you always."

And with her lips on his, the black closed around him.

He opened his eyes but remembered nothing after falling to the floor. And now he was in a bed again, but these sheets were stiff and starched, and his arm was laid out with things attached to it, and there were people around, people talking in subdued voices and one said, "He's awake. Look."

A circle of faces surrounded him. Servius was first. Sinistra. McGonagall, Pomfrey, young Miss Hellmann and her father and Diaphne.

"Severus?" said Sinistra and grasped his hand. "How do you feel? Papus be praised, look at that, he's smiling."

"That's a grimace," said McGonagall firmly, but her features were softened with relief. "I'll fetch a Healer."

"Hey?" said Servius, and peered in closely, frowning. "Can you hear us? You're in the hospital."

"Servius, give him some room for Merlin's sake, you're looming!" said Sinistra.

"Wunderbar!" exclaimed Hellmann. "Ah Severus, you are like one of those animals with many lives."

"A cat?" said Servius.

"Nein, nein I wasn't thinking of a cat…"

"We don't need a Healer," huffed Madam Pomfrey, bustling into the fray. "I've been treating him for nigh-on twenty years." She placed a hand on his forehead. "That feels perfectly fine."

"Well he doesn't have a…a cold, Poppy…" said Sinistra.

"I'm checking for infection!"

Diaphne had come to the front of the bed and was examining the blood bag for his transfusion. "This seems to be working very well. It's almost two-thirds emptied already. Given that's at least three and half pints I'm still trying to work out how he survived. By rights he should be dead."

There was a moment of silence around the bed, then Sinistra replied coolly "He's exceedingly stubborn."

"Actually, ja, you are right, it is a cat."

Snape was shivering even under the heavy blankets and desperately thirsty, and he tried moving. Across his middle felt taught and stiff but also tender and he was confused for a moment, but then it came crashing back: the cutting curse, his own curse, at such close range – he slowly turned his eyes to Servius, whose own widened fearfully and he stepped back.

McGonagall returned just then with a Healer dressed in the St Mungo's robes so oversized they trailed on the floor, holding a clipboard, who, according to his tag, was aptly named Swadling. His face was blotched with acne and he had attempted shaving but apparently gave up. "Oh…oh, you're awake Mr Snape..." he said in a voice that hadn't quite finished breaking.

"How old are you?" demanded a sceptical Pomfrey.

"I'm a Junior Healer," he replied nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I'm a trainee. I've been assigned to this ward and I have Mr Snape's file."

"Professor Snape," corrected McGonagall, and then peered at the Healer. "I know you, don't I? Ravenclaw, two years ago."

Swadling nodded, somewhat miserably. "I did get all my NEWTs, Ma'am."

"Then give us your prognosis. How soon can we take him home to Hogwarts?"

"Um…" Swadling briefly consulted his clipboard and notes, then came to the side of the bed before grasping at the privacy curtain. He addressed the group of visitors. "I, uh, need to check Mr Snape's wound…"

Nobody moved for a moment, then Hellmann raised a hand, "Ja doch, fine – I will leave you now, Severus, to get better. Come Amelie, we will see the Professor back in the Potions classroom before you know it."

Servius and Amelie looked at each other, and Amelie nodded.

"I'd better get back to the Hospital Wing," murmured Diaphne. "It's unattended." She gave Snape a piercing look for a moment, then stepped aside so that Swadling could draw the curtain around.

Everyone was quiet as the Healer carefully rolled down the blankets and sheets and Snape glowered distrustfully at him as he undid the pyjama top to inspect the area across Snape's stomach and lower chest. There were no bandages as the skin had been sealed, but smooth, shiny, reddened lines of scar tissue traced the length of the gashes, the longest from Snape's right side, just below the rib-cage, across and up the entire torso, ending just short of his left nipple. A second had slashed horizontally from side to side, above his navel.

There was a collective intake of breath from those around the bed, except Swadling, who touched the wound tentatively in several places. "That's looking very good, it has a good colour. No sign of infection. How does it feel Mr Snape? Those ribs may still be sore, but we can give you some good pain inhibitors -,"

"I'm fine," grunted Snape, his mouth cottony. "Organs?"

"Healed, according to our diagnostics. Some liver fibrosis perhaps, you'll need to watch that. Heart and stomach untouched. We'll need to do some regular checkups on this area around the upper intestine, we are concerned about scar tissue causing obstruction. The skin will feel a bit tight for a few months but the dittany will minimize the visible scars."

"Blood?" muttered Snape. "Replenishing potion?"

"It says here there were five hundred cc's administered intravenously at the site," said Swadling, checking his notes. "This is just a precautionary transfusion for iron, mostly plasma and platelets. You lost a lot of blood, sir."

Snape nodded, satisfied, and looked again at Servius who had paled so significantly he looked about ready for a transfusion himself.

"Merlin's beard, Swadling, you sound like a Muggle. We are in St Mungos?" said McGonagall.

"There now!" said Sinistra with a large but slightly anxious smile. "You'll be right as rain in a week."

"I'll check his vital signs, thank you Mr Swadling," said Pomfrey, pulling up the bedclothes again. "The transfusion's almost finished. I expect you'd like a drink or something to eat Severus?"

"Thirsty," said Snape.

Swadling, looking relieved that his duty was over, pronounced Snape could leave if he passed checks in two days, then departed and Pomfrey bustled off to arrange sustenance.

McGonagall, Sinistra and Servius remained standing where they were and the silence that descended was of an enormous weight. Servius looked both abject and stricken, his eyes enormous against the pale face, sections of hair matted with blood and a streak of it over his left brow. He now wore a school-issue Slytherin jersey and track pants, and in one hand he held Snape's wand as well as his own. Snape considered him for some moments, then he said, "Are you alright?"

Servius nodded. "I'm sorry," he said, almost unintelligible. "I didn't mean to."

McGonagall said in a business-like voice, "Servius, here are some Galleons, I want you to go up to fifth floor and see if there are some socks. You've bare feet. And buy some chocolate frogs, you'll feel better."

Servius accepted the money from McGonagall, then lay the wands down on the bedside table before slipping away.

"I believe that he's sincere," said Snape immediately Servius was out of earshot.

McGonagall nodded. "We can talk about this more when you've recovered. But there were immediate steps I've had to take, Severus. The boy is suspended, and I will be opening an investigation into the incident with a preliminary view to expulsion. He can't stay at Hogwarts."

"I'm not submitting any complaint against him. I know what happened and why. This is a family issue, not a school one."

"You are a very valuable Potions Master and Deputy that was almost killed, Severus. It is most certainly a school matter."

Snape shook his head; it felt like it was full of rocks. "Ma'am, please, let Servius and I work this through. Don't expel him."

"Severus," said Sinistra, squeezing his hand. "The investigation is independent and the Ministry and the Board will need to be involved…"

"How did he even know about the sectumsempra curse?" asked McGonagall. "Surely you didn't teach it to him?"

"I don't know. There're not many people that know it; I have no idea…."

"Servius will be staying with Horace for the moment," said Sinistra, "during the investigation and until Mr and Mrs Burbage can come to Hogwarts."

"Don't send him home," said Snape. "They don't want him."

"Concetta has cleared her diary of everything else for emergency counselling," continued McGonagall. "Both Servius and Amelie will need to attend, but separate sessions. I want to find out what's going on between those two, as well. This is all quite unbelievable."

"Ma'am, if he is expelled then I will have to submit my resignation," said Snape wearily. "I can't in good conscience abandon him."

McGonagall hesitated at this. "But I thought…"

"I will return to Cokeworth. He can live with me there. Ma'am, I must add, Servius has proven extraordinary potential as a wizard. A potential for greatness. It will be a great loss to the community if he is relegated to Muggledom."

"You'll go to Cokeworth?" said Sinistra anxiously.

"Severus, you have the position of Headmaster in your sights -," said McGonagall, looking flustered. "Sir Byron is very keen on the appointment."

Madam Pomfrey returned at that moment bearing a flask and a selection of pills and potions on a tray, and the conversation lapsed, but she glanced around at the unhappy faces and said, "Looks like a bit of Pepper-up might do everyone some good. If you've been discussing the lad, I'll say my piece. I examined him. He was never even near the Centaurs yesterday: the boy took a hiding – a fist or some kind of blunt instrument - and was bound with rope around his ankles and wrists. He had minor nerve damage, consistent with victims of the Cruciatus. I'm not saying I know what happened, but if he claims it was Professor Longbottom, then perhaps someone should try listening to him."

A few days later, nearing the last days of January, Snape was given clearance to return to Hogwarts via Disapparation. He carried a variety of potions and pills to manage pain, but none could lift that he felt in his heart when he mentally surveyed the situation he found himself in.

It was a Sunday night, the students were in their Common Rooms and Snape had intended to slip quietly inside and go directly to his quarters, but Hagrid had needed to unlock the Gates and the front door for him, and had inquired conversationally all the way up the hill as to his wellbeing, and when he was finally admitted into the Entrance Hall, McGonagall was inside waiting for him.

"Welcome back," she remarked, with a slightly formal smile. "How are you?"

"Much recovered, thank you."

"Let us gather in your office, I believe Horace is there and wanted to meet with you before he leaves for the evening."

Duly they reconvened in the Potions Office, and Slughorn was effusive in greeting Snape and made a show of offering him the office chair while he and McGonagall took the visitor seats. McGonagall didn't frequent the dungeons all that often, and, as she always did whenever in his office or classroom, her attention was initially distracted by his curation and shelves of curious bottles.

"Servius is staying with me," began Slughorn. "I've plenty of room and he's quite safe there. Just until we know the outcome of the investigation. He has his trunk and other belongings in my spare room."

"How is he?"

"He's worried," said Slughorn with an energetic nodding. "I wouldn't have said he's communicative, but he's cooperating and he's staying out of trouble. I've got his wand for now."

"He's been in counselling with Concetta," said McGonagall. "I'm getting reports on each visit. So far they've concentrated on his difficulty adjusting to Hogwarts…well, becoming a wizard…I will say that it seems Servius is making an effort with her."

Snape nodded. "How long will he stay with you, Horace? Can I see him?"

"Let me talk to Concetta about that," said McGonagall hastily. "Also, if this…incident…falls under the ambit of a civil or criminal procedure, then Servius may not be permitted to speak to witnesses."

"I've already spoken to Potter," retorted Snape. "He came to Mungos. I've told him I'm not laying charges and I will deny any attempts to find this as an attempt at murder or even assault. His office can investigate all it wants, but I've already told him there was no intent in Servius' act. He's twelve, hot-headed and impulsive. Not a murderer."

"Harry is here tomorrow," replied McGonagall, thinning her lips. "You have a meeting at eleven. Horace will continue to cover your classes for the time being. I've spoken to Sir Byron and he has appointed a gentleman from the Department to lead the investigation. He'll be with Harry."

"Ma'am," said Snape with a heavy sigh. "Is this strictly necessary? I recall all manner of dangerous events at the hands of students in this school that didn't occasion this kind of response. May I be so bold as to suggest you're overreacting? When Potter attacked Draco Malfoy with the same curse, the extent of his punishment was to attend a series of mind-numbing detentions more torturous for me than him. Why does Servius warrant expulsion?"

"Oh very good point," commented Slughorn, turning to McGonagall.

"Times have changed, Severus," replied McGonagall briskly. "And Servius is not the Chosen One. Hogwarts was duty-bound under the Custody Clause."

"Or perhaps it was that Potter was a Gryffindor as opposed to a Slytherin?"

"I won't be drawn into House politics, Severus, and frankly it's demeaning of you to do so."

Snape set his jaw. "Ma'am."

She waited a moment to ensure he had been silenced, then said, "That woman…what is her name…Peacock!... has been touch as well. She heard from Harry what happened and contacted me by Floo. I've asked her to send word to Servius' grandparents. I'll let you liaise with them depending on the outcome and what you choose to do, but as to your future at Hogwarts, I will have my say on this Severus. My hope and expectation is that you put these matters behind you and prepare to assume the position of Headmaster. I have advocated strongly on your behalf to the Board and right now, they support your nomination. I strongly urge you to be sensible about your future and not throw it away. Aye, I know Servius is your son, but there's no need to be absent from his life even if he returns to a Muggle school. I would go so far as to predict your relationship will improve dramatically if he is allowed to return to the world he clearly prefers."

Slughorn didn't speak but gazed at Snape over the top of his glasses sorrowfully.

While Snape's opinions were acutely different from hers, he knew better than to say so. Instead he pushed back his chair and got to his feet, flinching slightly at the sharp pain in his side, and said, "Thank you for briefing me. I may retire to my quarters now, if you don't mind. I am fatigued and would like to be in good form for the meeting tomorrow."

Slughorn and McGonagall also rose, with mild affront in McGonagall's case. She said, "Aurora did mention that she was keen to meet with you when you returned. Shall I ask her to see you?"

Snape paused, then his head swam and eyelids drooped. "I will make a point of meeting with her tomorrow. Thank you."

"Alright everyone, bring out your homework please," said Sinistra to her first-year Gryffindor and Slytherin students in her Monday morning class. Being on dayshift, she was teaching in the classroom, this currently being her preference since she'd begun feeling nauseous every time she looked through a telescope. Something of a hindrance in an Astronomy teacher, but she was assured by Diaphne it would pass.

The students at their desks shuffled through their Dossiers and rucksacks, and in due course began to unfold before them large sections of parchment. She strolled up and down between the rows, examining each briefly, suppressing a smile at the amateurish drawings.

"I'm seeing a lot of very good lunar calendars, students," she said, turning a corner and walking up another aisle. "Yes, indeed, you've done very well. Here are the dates you should have under each month for the first row starting with January: one, one, four, three, five, three – yes, William?"

Wait for William put down his hand. The seat next to him was empty, and Sinistra made a conscious effort not to look at it. "I have two new moons in January, miss. I think I made a mistake."

"Me too," said Iona McGhee. "One on the first and one on the thirty-first."

"And me," said Ulfat Milani. "I had to draw an extra row for it, so that can't be right."

Sinistra smiled with satisfaction. "In that case, congratulations. You trusted your calculations and you are absolutely right. I was going to ask how many of you calculated two new moons for January – show of hands."

A small forest rose; those who didn't looked despairingly at their neighbour's calendars.

"We are in a very special position this year," continued Sinistra, "in having a month where the lunar cycle completes all phases and commences again, still within the month. The second new moon in the same month has a name – can anyone tell me what it is?"

There was no answer and Sinistra waited, wishing very much she could sit. "Alright, well writing this down please because I'm assigning homework on it. It is called a Black Moon. The Stargazers will be having a special meeting on the night of the thirty-first – what do you suppose they'll see in the telescope?"

"Two moons, miss?" ventured Samuel Small.

"That would be something, but no, it's the second in the cycle, not an additional moon, Samuel. Yes Topper?"

"Werewolves, miss?"

"That's a full moon you idiot," said Bertram Curteys, scowling at him.

"They would also need to be flying, Topper, if we were to see them through a telescope. No, not werewolves. Miss Hellmann?"

Amelie said, "As the moon is new, that won't be visible, but the stars may be brighter."

Sinistra smiled and nodded. "That's right. I won't even be getting the telescopes out, there is no moon to see, maybe just the tiniest sliver. But because a Black Moon is rare, it's nice for the Stargazers to celebrate it.

"So for homework: research and write a foot of parchment on other phenomena that occur in the lunar cycle, and their names. You'll find this relates most often to full moon, but may also occur in other phases. You'll need to go further than one calendar year – I suggest up to ten. For extra House points, a report on why a Black Moon is considered special to magical beings – what traditions do some societies or groups observe during a Black Moon? That includes us witches and wizards. There's the bell for recess, you're dismissed but pass up your calendars to me please. Yes, fold them up again so they don't tear. I'll send the assignment to your Dossiers…please don't scrape the chair, Topper."

Once all the children had emptied out, Sinistra locked up the classroom and started down the stairs, looking forward to a cup of tea and maybe some plain biscuits in the staffroom. Hopefully Slughorn would be there and she could find out how Servius was faring. As she hadn't heard from McGonagall, she assumed Snape hadn't yet returned and that worried her a little – he'd been due back the day before and she would have thought his fox would have made an appearance if anything had gone wrong.

She was about halfway down when she saw across the Hall a figure emerging from the dungeon stairs. It was none other than Snape, looking austere and in full sweep as his academic robe flapped behind him. Her heart jumped and started hammering.

Then today. Today she could tell him. "Severus?"

He stopped and looked up at her voice. As always, she swooned a little when his eyes met hers, but she forced herself to hurry down the stairs. He was waiting for her at the foot, but frowning.

"How are you feeling?" she asked breathlessly. "You look well enough. When did you get back?"

"I'm perfectly fine. Aurora, I wanted to thank you, for coming to my aid at the Shrieking Shack. For looking after Servius. I'm told it was you that called the emergency healers. I am indebted."

"Anyone would have done the same. There's no need to thank me, I'm just glad you're alright."

He held her eyes for a moment and she was so absorbed she almost forgot to ask. "Oh! Severus – we really must talk. It's important. Are you free?"

"Now?"

"If you are…?"

At that moment there was a hammering on the front door and Snape glanced at it. "That's for me. I'm afraid now is not a good time. Perhaps later?"

She suppressed her irritation. Was he never free? Was she going to have to stalk him? How had Charity managed to commandeer so much of his time? "Of course," she said, and watched as he then went to the door. It was opened from outside by Hagrid, accompanied by the Famous Harry Potter and another gentleman.

Potter shook hands with Snape, made polite enquiries after his health and then introduced him to the second man that had followed him into the Great Hall, openly looking up and all around although his expression was so deadpan it was difficult to guess his opinion. He was tall, lean, looked to be in his late fifties and had a salt and pepper beard. He wore a dark cloak, the hood of which he now pulled back, and carried a thin case. He too extended his hand to Snape as Potter introduced him. "This is Dillard Credge. He's from the DME. The Board have asked him to run the internal investigation."

"Morning," said Credge. "Good to make your acquaintance. I'm sorry about the injury."

"Good morning," replied Snape, lowering his lids. "Will my office suit for a meeting?"

"Lead the way," said Credge and he and Potter followed Snape down to the dungeon, Credge taking in his surroundings as they walked.

For the next hour, at his desk, Snape answered question after question from Dillard Credge, sometimes the same question but from a slightly different perspective. Potter threw in the occasional one as well. His patience wearing thin, Snape at last stopped bothering to conceal his irritation and said, "I think I've said this at least twice before, Mr Credge. A twelve-year-old doesn't know what he's saying when he blurts he wants to kill you. They don't possess the subtleties of language to distinguish between a throwaway dramatic remark and an actual threat. To have said the moment was emotionally charged would be an understatement. To say Servius was in a fit of pique would scarcely begin to describe it. The boy was in a fury, absolutely, but did he genuinely mean to kill me – absolutely not."

The fact that Snape had heard Servius call him 'Dad' for the first time was all he really needed to know the true state of Servius' mind. If attacking him had been intended to provoke a reaction out of Snape, it had had in effect achieved the opposite: the curse had sliced away all his son's pretenses in seconds.

"The sectumsempra spell is rarely used," added Potter. "It's likely Servius had no idea what he was doing."

"Potter would know," said Snape with barely concealed irony.

Credge was scribbling away, then flipped another page of his notepad. "You said you don't know how Servius came across the spell?"

"I do not. It's not covered in the curricula."

"But you invented it, Professor Snape?"

"Who hasn't tried their hand at inventing a spell? That doesn't mean I taught it to Servius. Perhaps Potter knows where a student can lay their hands on it."

Snape and Credge both looked at Potter expectantly, who flushed, and stammered, "Th-that was a long time ago. It would be impossible for a student here today to come across it."

"But you were unarmed, Professor," said Credge, turning back. "If you said Servius was acting in self-defence, what was he defending himself from?"

"From me getting too close."

"Literally or figuratively?"

"As I've said, he wasn't rational."

"Well I will be asking Servius that same question, so if there's anything you want to declare now, it might be a good time."

"You're interviewing the boy?"

"Decidedly. Wouldn't be much of an investigation if I didn't talk to the perpetrator," said Credge with a thin-lipped smile.

"Who'll be with him?"

Credge pulled a file from his case and checked it. "A Professor Sinistra? I'm interviewing him as well."

Snape nodded, relieved. She wouldn't let Servius be heavied or coerced. That was probably what she wanted to talk to him about.

"Professor Sinistra is a woman. Who else are you interviewing?"

Credge consulted his file. "A Madam Pomfrey, the Headmistress, a student called Amelie Hellmann and a Professor Longbottom. As a matter of fact, is that the time? I'm supposed to meet this Professor Sinistra in the Entrance Hall about now."

Potter stood. "I'll take you there to meet her. Professor, could I have a few minutes with you as well? I'll come back here."

Snape nodded.

"Thank you for your time, Professor Snape," said Credge, shaking his hand again. "I'll be in touch."

They departed, but it was only a few minutes later when there was quiet rap on the door and Snape opened it to admit Potter again, who resumed his seat across the desk and tried a deprecating grin. "Perhaps Servius will just get the world's most boring detentions."

"I wouldn't make light of it Potter. By rights, you should have gone through this. The fact that you later attempted to strike me with the exact same curse just goes to show how ineffectual those detentions were in meting out justice or correction."

Potter frowned. "I thought the detentions were your idea."

"Merlin no. As you well know, Dumbledore never took my advice on your punishment; he considered me only adequate to execute them. The detentions I issued you were for being a liar and a cheat. Where did you put the book?"

Potter was flushing angrily. "I didn't come to talk about this!"

"I want to know if that was the source of Servius' knowledge."

"I put it in the room of lost things – the Room of Requirement. It'll have burned up in the Fiendfyre. And that's the truth," he added defiantly.

"I see," said Snape arching a brow. "Then the mystery continues. Perhaps the investigation will be more enlightening."

Silence ensued while Potter stared hard at Snape's desk, his jaw working while he clearly wrestled to contain himself. "My therapist says that you're likely to always have this effect on me."

"And what effect is that?"

"Making me feel fourteen again. Like an idiot."

"Well only you know whether you're an idiot, Potter, I can't tell you to be. Of all the lessons you could have extracted from my education, the only one you chose to take to heart was a poor sense of self-worth. Interesting, as low self-esteem certainly wasn't an affliction of your father."

Potter emitted a long, frustrated sigh. "Really? Are we doing this?"

Snape chuckled. "I believe it was you who asked to meet. What is it you want, Potter?"

"I wanted to tell you that I've been trying to get in touch with Neville, but he's not responding. Is he here today? And also that I sent my best Aurors to the Malfoys, the Blacks' and up and down the country but no sign of Rabastan Lestrange. We found some Polyjuice suppliers on Knockturn but they're not saying anything. Have you heard more?"

Snape gave a spare smile. "I can do better than either of those things. Now have you got your listening ears on? Lestrange and Longbottom are one and the same. I suggest you go catch him."

Potters brow furrowed, "One and the - ? You mean Rabastan has been impersonating Neville? Using Polyjuice? Like -,"

"Just like Barty Crouch Junior, yes. Nobody ever accused Death Eaters of spectacular originality."

"And nobody picked it?" said Potter incredulously.

"Servius did, in fact, and he never even knew Longbottom before. Trelawney had a hunch."

Potter was dumbfounded. "So at Sluggy's retirement – that wasn't Neville?"

"…is my theory. But it hasn't been proved. Which is why I suggest you go catch him."

"But… why?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "For the Resurrection Stone, Potter. Merlin! Ten points off Gryffindor."

"How can I prove it?" said Potter, standing distractedly. "Has he been stealing Polyjuice ingredients?"

Snape actually laughed at that. "Apparently you are fourteen. Find the original Longbottom! Has he kept him in a trunk like Moody? He has to be alive, you know that much, and very likely nearby."

Potter almost slapped himself and he scowled hard at Snape, the cause of his anger very mixed.

"Where do I find him?"

But a search of the castle and grounds revealed no sign of Longbottom, something that made Snape's suspicions mount. They went to the Hospital Wing and found Diaphne doing the rounds, however after initial introductions, when they enquired as to Longbottom's whereabouts, she became standoffish.

"I'm not his keeper. I don't keep a collar on him."

"The matter is urgent, Diaphne. That's why Potter is here with me. Do you know where he might be?" pressed Snape.

"A student delivered a message. That's all I had," Diaphne replied, starting to move off.

"A message about what?"

"That he'd be gone a few days. That's all I know. Now I need to get on, if you don't mind."

They both immediately went from the Hospital to the Head's Office. McGonagall welcomed Potter warmly at the office door, and while Snape stood to one side with his hands behind his back, McGonagall, Dumbledore and Potter exchanged pleasantries and shared a few choice anecdotes.

"Professor, I've actually come on some business," said Potter after Snape's third pointed sigh. "I'm hoping to say hello to Neville but can't seem to find him anywhere and he's not answering my Patronus messages."

McGonagall's benign expression darkened several shades. She glanced at Snape and then back at Potter. "Neville has taken some leave. He requested it."

"Leave?" echoed Snape, coming forward. "Where? Why?"

"Well I don't know where, I don't ask for an itinerary every time a staff member wants a holiday!" she retorted.

"Perhaps your…orb…will know," said Snape edgily.

"Were you expecting him to take leave?" asked Potter. "Seems like he went rather spontaneously. He's supposed to be interviewed for the investigation."

"I believe the decision was sudden. At any rate, I think it's a good idea."

"What happened, Ma'am?" asked Snape.

She pursed her lips and looked agitated. "Dumbledore will testify. After what Madam Pomfrey said at St Mungos, I came straight back here and asked Neville to meet with me. Well he came up in a temper and said he'd never been so insulted and…frankly, demanded that Servius be expelled. So, I told him that Madam Pomfrey refuted the explanation about the Centaurs causing the injuries and…I invited him to be honest with me. I asked him what all this baseless conjecture and accusations were about? I couldn't believe the possibility that Neville could be a bully, let alone physically hurt a student, but…the way he conducted himself in my office..! Isn't that so, Albus?"

Portrait Dumbledore was sage. "I'm afraid it's true. I barely recognised him."

Potter nodded knowingly. "That's why we're looking for him. It's possible that the man you were speaking to wasn't Neville."

"Oh Harry – you haven't bought into this nonsensical theory that Neville is somehow a Death Eater?"

"Somehow? Using Polyjuice, Professor. It's been done before. I'd just like to talk to him. I know Neville would tell me the truth, but he's not answering my messages. I need to know where he might have gone."

"Polyjuice?!" exclaimed McGonagall doubtfully, and hesitated for several long seconds, but only after Dumbledore encouraged her did she assume a highly vexed expression and hastened to her orbuculum. Snape and Potter gathered around it. With a light have of her hand, she said, "Longbottom," and the clear scene within became cloudy and white. She frowned. "I don't understand. This means he hasn't gone far; the orb doesn't have a destination and it usually traces a Disapparation…so where is Neville?"

Dumbledore said, "Start with the most obvious. Have you tried the Greenhouses?"

"Yes. I used Homenum Revelio. There was nobody in any of them," said Potter.

"His rooms?"

"Locked."

"Did you try to unlock?"

"Well…no…I assumed he would answer me if he were in there," said Potter.

Dumbledore smiled patiently. "Go back to his rooms with Hagrid and try again. If your theory is correct, you'll either find a Death Eater or a victim. Either way, worth putting aside niceties, I should think."

"It's possible Lestrange has taken Longbottom with him," said Snape.

"Oh this is nonsense!" exclaimed McGonagall. "I can't believe this! Let us all go and we'll sort this out once and for all."

As a group, they waited outside the Herbology Professor's rooms, where they were soon joined by Hagrid who was pulling his giant keyring free from its belt as he cross the stretch of rocky, tufty gound. He in turn was followed by Fisk.

Potter first asked everyone to hold back while he approached the door and banged loudly upon it, and shouted "Neville! Are you in there? It's me, Harry. Can you open up?"

They waited a full minute, Potter listening closely, then he turned to them and shrugged. "I can't hear him."

"Right," said McGonagall. "Hagrid, as Neville's direct superior, I'm instructing you to open his door and I alone shall go in and confirm the room is indeed empty. I believe under our emergency management policy I have jurisdiction to do so."

"Ma'am," said Hagrid, and duly flicked through all the keys on his ring until he came across one he seemed satisfied with, then fitted it to the keyhole. When it didn't open immediately, he pulled his wand out of his coat pocket, incanted a charm and tapped the key, then it turned and clicked open with ease. "He's set a proper locking charm on it," he informed the group. He pushed the door open a fraction then stood back to let McGonagall through.

She had barely stepped through the door when a dreadful screaming rent the air and she hurried back out with her hands over her ears. "Caterwaul!" she cried. "He's set an alarm!"

"One he wants to hear from a distance," observed Snape, and flinching at the racket, quickly overrode the alarm with a silencing charm. It took two or three attempts before one was effective, and by then Fisk had set up a mournful howling and flocks of birds had erupted into the air from the forest.

"Shaddap, yer daft hound," said Hagrid, shaking his head. "Right, Ma'am, ready to try again?"

McGonagall swallowed, squared her shoulders and once more went through. This time she came running out with a frightened cry, shielding her head. The others quickly assembled around her. "What is it Professor?" asked Potter. "Was it Neville?"

"No! It was some dreadful Tentacula plant tried to grab me! I was ambushed!"

"Ma'am," said Snape, "I think we have all the evidence we need that this has become a matter for official Auror investigation – a missing Longbottom and a booby-trapped room – I suggest you allow Potter to enter first."

Potter's eyes widened and he glanced at Snape, but said, "Um, yes, I think that's wise. How do you deal with a Tentacula again?"

"Severing charm," murmured Snape. "Diffindo."

Potter bravely walked into the room bearing his wand and there was flashes of green and cursing heard by the group outside, then Potter came to the door, glasses slightly askew holding a long, green, spiky limb which he tossed onto the ground. "Okay!" he said. "I need some help. It's a mess in here and it stinks!"

The group gingerly entered Longbottom's rooms, and it was immediately evident that this was no ordinary accommodation. It was in complete disarray, with boxes, clothes and belongings strewn about, the bed reduced to a bald mattress, bowls of food left to decay and a slain Tentacula now splattered liberally over everything. Those who had been game to enter now held their noses and squinted, as if fumes of filth stung their eyes.

"Well the elves have clearly been out of service here for some years, I'd say," commented McGonagall.

Potter upended a box and there was a crash as dozens of small, brown bottles tumbled to the floor. He picked up one that was still intact and handed it to Snape, who gave it the smell test. "Old. But Polyjuice. I'm assuming he added hair samples to this in the cauldron over the fire there."

"The evidence just keeps mounting," murmured Potter. "Neville! Neville are you in here?"

Snape was scanning the room and his eye was drawn the map on the wall with tiny handwritten notes all over it, the lunar calendar and the pile of newspapers with his name in the headlines. You're fucking fast and loose with what's what Rabastan had said. Why had he gone to the Malfoy's for Christmas? Was it for money? Information? Was he bribing or blackmailing? When Servius had left the lunch with Draco, the conversation had turned to the release date of the Death Eaters in Azkaban, the ones Rabastan had kept in touch with and had offered sanctuary if they were homeless or bankrupt. Then he'd turned to Snape with a penetrating stare, but grinned and said, "Well. You know too much now, Snape. Can't be trusted, sorry to say. What, in the Constellation of Crux, can we do about that?"

"Neville?" Potter continued to shout, venturing through the door that led to the kitchenette. McGonagall was shaking her head dispiritedly and headed outside again where Hagrid was waiting, too large to enter. Snape saw a second door which would be the bathroom and was shut. He turned the handle and opened it.

Mould and dirt covered most of the floor and walls; there were no towels or any products indicating either Rabastan or Longbottom had ever used this room for its intended purpose. He caught a glimpse of himself in a floor-length mirror on the wall and saw the reflection was at first shadowy, but without him moving, became clearer and more defined.

"Potter!" he called and stood waiting and still until Potter navigated through the mess towards him.

"What?"

"Recognise that kind of mirror?" he said, pointing at it. The reflection of Potter also began to crystalise, and a kind of shimmer travelled its length.

"Foe-glass," said Potter with a mix of awe and disbelief. "This guy's been taking all his tips from Barty."

"Looks like you and I are the enemies."

"Why put a Foe-glass in here? He obviously doesn't use this room…"

Snape calmly took out his wand. "Revelio," he said, pointing at the mirror. The glass became opaque and then the image reversed, showing what lay beyond the wall upon which it was hung. "There's a space behind it."

Using a levitating spell, Snape quickly lifted the mirror away from the wall and propped it on the floor, and there was, uncovered, a narrow opening into a hidden cavity, just large enough for a man.

"Neville?" Harry shouted instantly and rushed towards it, then came to an abrupt halt when he almost fell headlong into a hole in the floor. "Holy…! Professor! Hurry – there's a pit -!"

Potter lit his wand and Snape did the same, hastening to the lip of the pit. They shone light into the inky blackness within, revealing the excavation to be around a metre and half across but closer to three metres deep, the sides laid with a smooth, slippery metal.

There, at the bottom, bound and gagged and lying in filth, was Neville Longbottom.

He made no movement, and after a moment of stunned silence, Potter said, "He can't be dead?"

"Move aside," Snape said briskly. "I'll bring him out. Better arrange for medics immediately."

Using mobilicorpus, Snape expertly lifted a drooping Longbottom carefully up the length of the pit and then gently hovered him through to the front room where he deposited the body onto the mattress. Potter closely followed and immediately inspected Longbottom once he was laid out.

"He's alive!" Potter declared. "The medics are on their way. Professor, do you think it will be safe to revive him?"

"Is it Neville?!" cried McGonagall, and picked her way through the mess as quickly as possible to the bedside. When she saw him, she slapped her hand over her mouth in horror. "Papus and all his saints. Poor man! Poor, poor Neville! How has this happened?!"

Snape waved his wand the length of Longbottom's body and murmured "Rennervate!" and it wasn't long before there came signs of life and Longbottom's eyes opened and he looked around.

Potter had been busy removing the ropes binding Longbottom's feet, and now moved up to the wrists which were tied behind his back. But he then paused, and straightened, his gaze fixed on the spot. "Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall – I think you better see this."

Longbottom groaned and muttered, "Water…"

Snape and McGonagall moved around to the other side of the bed where Potter was standing, and they followed his eyes. Longbottom's wrists were now only loosely bound and he was starting to wriggle them free, but just before the rope slipped away entirely the image was clearly glimpsed by all of them.

On Longbottom's left wrist was the Dark Mark.